


Despite You

by bitesydog



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Arguing, Breakfast, Forgiveness, Gen, M/M, MILD - Freeform, Mean, S1, TMA, Temper, apology, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitesydog/pseuds/bitesydog
Summary: When Martin is caught with his head in the clouds at work, Jon gives him an earful. Jon’s words hit harsher than expected, and when Martin becomes emotional, he knows he went overboard.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 13
Kudos: 155





	Despite You

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in early season 1 before Martin gets “sick”.

Martin quietly stared into his steeping tea on his desk. Work was coming slowly for him today, as he was finding it hard to sustain his attention. He had visited his mom the previous day, who was typically nonplussed to see him, but that day her tongue had been sharper than usual and left him with some cutting remarks that he was finding difficult to shake.

As much as he attempted to lose himself in his work, he had little energy for research and follow up, and decided to take a small break to write in his poetry journal. Minutes turned to an hour… and then two… and then eventually Martin, who’s fog had finally lifted after pouring his thoughts on the page, felt the twinge of guilt for being so irresponsible with his time throughout the workday. He had a lot to finish- too much for the rest of his general work schedule- so he decided it would be best if he stayed over.

He glanced over at his cup of tea and realized it had never stopped steeping, and appeared to look to be as opaque as a strong cup of coffee. He sighed, picked up the ice cold mug, and lifted out of his chair-

“Martin.” Jon said from behind him, in a short tone.

Martin had not heard Jon enter and was startled. In a split second, Martin had turned and spilled the majority of his cold mug onto Jon.

“Augh!  _ Martin _ !” Jon yelled, stepping back, now absolutely drenched.

“A-Ah, I’m sorry!” Martin sputtered, absolutely mortified, as he placed his empty mug on the desk and began to look for paper towels.

“What the hell, Martin! I just wanted to know if you had gotten any follow up from—” his train of thought was interrupted by a glance at Martin’s table. Martin’s poetry journal was lying open on the table, surrounded by different colored pens, markers, and a small sticker book as a bookmark. Jon let out a pained sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Martin...Are you kidding me right now!?” Jon was beginning to raise his voice. Martin’s hair stood on end- He could tell Jon was pissed.

“Jon, I was—“

“Was what, Martin!? Because all I can tell is that all day you’ve been doing literally anything but your job!” John yelled as he gestured to the table. Martin could feel tears forming in his eyes and was trying very hard to keep them at bay. He fumbled to close his journal and began to gather his things

“I-I’m sorry, I j-just—“

“...You know what? Why don’t you just take the rest of the day off? Maybe just take a couple of days off if  _ this— _ “ he bends over and picks up a dropped eraser, shaped like a cartoon spider, “— is the type of effort you’re bringing to your work!”

Jon tossed (nearly threw) the eraser haphazardly back at Martin, who just barely was able to fumble and catch it. Martin grasped the eraser, trembling, and began to stream tears.

Jon had worked himself up so much, Martin’s reaction didn’t sink in until he began to blubber audibly. Jon’s feeling of selfriteousness fell quickly into quiet, horrified shame, and he knew he had gone way too far. Before he could speak, the door to the group office opened and in walked Tim and Sasha, back from their lunch outing. 

“—Oh yeah? What did you think about… the…“ Sasha surveyed the scene, immediately picking up the tension. “... I’m sorry, what’s going on?”

Martin picked up his backpack without fully packing his things and attempted to shield his face from concerned eyes. “I-I was just leaving!”

Jon turned to look at him as he began walking away, and finally snapped out of his head long enough to walk a couple of steps after him, “H-hey, wait! Martin, I—“

But he was already gone. Sasha tried to ask what was wrong when he fled past, but Martin clearly just wanted to exit the room as quickly as possible. Sasha gave Jon a confused look and turned to follow after Martin.

Tim awkwardly stood in the doorway with his eyebrows raised.

“Ah… Well.” Tim rolled his eyes and started to walk towards his desk. “I guess I kind of knew it was only a matter of time before you got to Martin.”

“I-I didn’t…”

“Didn’t want what? Didn’t want Martin to react when you openly treat him like rubbish? I honestly don’t understand your problem with him— I’m sorry, boss, but Martin has really managed to keep on coming to this dour place with a positive attitude despite… well… _you_.”

Before Jon could weakly protest, Tim had shaken his head, put his earbuds back in, and was back to work. Jon simply stood there for a minute or two, before quietly creeping back into his office.

Only ten minutes had silently passed in his office and he had just been mulling over the interaction in his head, when there was a pounding at the door. He sighed miserably, then straightened up and grumbled in, “Come in.”

Sasha threw open the door and abruptly walked in.

“ _ Jon! _ I honestly thought I was beginning to warm up to you, but it turns out you’re  _ absolutely foul _ ! What is your problem!?”

“Sasha, I know! I know… I didn’t mean to…” His voice dropped, not wanting to give excuses even he didn’t believe. He sure did mean to. He felt completely correct in his reaction until he had pushed Martin to  _ tears _ . Jon cleared his throat.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

Sasha scoffed, “If he’s even here tomorrow! Jon, I’m not sure if he will be here  _ after _ tomorrow! You literally told him to go home!”

Jon was staring at his desk, his expression unreadable to Sasha. When he looked up, Sasha was looking at her phone, and taking the pencil from behind her ear. She set her phone down on the desk and pulled a sticky note from a tablet and began scrawling a phone number. Sasha placed the pencil back behind her ear and slid the sticky note towards Jon. “Here.”

Jon stared at the sticky note, “Sasha, that’s unnecessary— you know I have everyone’s number on file—“

“Yes, I obviously know that you have that  _ here _ , but I honestly think he’s not going to want to talk to you. Call him from your personal phone later and just apologize.” Sasha let go of the sticky note and started out of the office. Before she closed the door, she said, “If you only knew how much he respects you...  _ despite _ your attitude and how you treat him.” and then she harshly shut the door.

When Jon was finally alone, he put his face in his hands and took a deep breath before glancing around his desk at his work. There was no possible way he was going to get anything else done today. Not with his apparent office-wide disgrace hanging over him. He packed up his belongings, hesitantly snagged the sticky note from the desk, and left the building.

Martin had gone straight home and, after a relieving cry in the privacy of his own home, went directly to bed. Crying in such a public way had humiliated and exhausted him and he thought starting fresh tomorrow was his best chance of getting over this quickly. He tried to push away thoughts of embarrassment when his phone buzzed on his pillow. He was getting a call, but from a number he was unfamiliar with. Martin let it ring for a moment, debating whether or not to pick up, before sighing and reaching to answer it.

“Hello?” He quietly said, sinking deeper under his covers.

“Uhm… Martin? It’s uhh… Jon. I wanted to—“

Martin, without even thinking about it,  _ immediately _ hung up. He had a lot of feelings in the moment, but one of them overtook the rest- how much he  _ really _ didn’t want to talk to Jon. Martin tossed his phone across the room and turned off the lights.  _ Sod off, _ he thought to himself, trying to push Jon out of his mind. He was ashamed at how difficult it was.

Why did he always do this to himself? Putting all of his self-worth in the hands of people who despised him has only ever had one result. A result he’s known over and over and over again… He was so very tired of it. Martin, to his own dismay, began to weep softly again before finally falling asleep. In his deep sleep, he didn’t notice his phone buzzing on the floor across the room throughout the evening.

The clock in Jon’s kitchen had just hit nine o’ clock and he decided if his calls and texts hadn’t been answered by then, they weren’t going to be. At least he knew it wasn’t appropriate to continue. In his opinion, it had barely been appropriate to call him from his personal number in the first place, but judging Martin’s quick dismissive reaction to him calling, it  _ had _ been his only option.

Jon was irritated, and harshly placed his phone face down on the countertop. He leaned against the table, stewing in the feeling, when a question entered his mind- Why did Martin irritate him so much? He began making himself tea as he drew some of the more obvious conclusions.

He lowered the bag of camomile into his cup and thought to himself,  _ He’s lazy, _ though his mind struggled to find exactly how he knew that. While it was true Martin was prone to becoming lost to distraction and his own flights of fancy, Jon couldn’t think of any specific instance in which Martin avoided work. If anything, Martin tended to push through his work despite clearly struggling. 

_ Ah...He’s dull, _ Jon thought, and a small cruel smirk crossed his face as he stirred his tea. His reaction might have gone unnoticed to himself if he hadn’t have caught a glimpse of his own face in the dark window. As he made eye contact with himself, his face immediately fell, and he looked away, feeling as if he caught a glimpse of his most base evil self. He quietly admitted to himself that thought wasn’t fair… or even  _ necessarily _ true. While Martin sometimes struggled to summon painfully simple information, Jon would have thought to have been hammered into his head during his studies in Parapsychology, Martin had plenty of other areas of expertise that were sometimes...  _ tangentially _ related to the job. He also had a knack for surprising Jon with unexpected bits of information that really assisted him flesh out the context for some of their cases.

Jon took a sip of his tea and leaned forward against his counter, thinking to himself,  _ Well, he’s definitely annoying. _ This, he thought, was absolutely true and required no more digging. Constant interruptions, incessant questions, and incredible clumsiness were all obvious problems, right there on the surface.

But just below that surface, Jon knew there was something else about Martin that repulsed him. The words prickled in his subconscious, dangerously close to surfacing and further exposing some of Jon’s worst aspects to himself.

Jon thought of all of the times Martin had interrupted him during recording to bring him a mug of tea from the breakroom.  _ Generous? _

He thought of all of the times that Martin tried to initiate conversations about something he was reading or a poetry passage that had really gotten to him.  _ Passionate? _

A nondescript thought passed through Jon’s mind of Martin’s attentive eyes, friendly demeanor, and warm smile as he listened to him the couple of times Jon decided to respond with more than distracted acknowledgement.  _ Authenticity… Genuineness... _

_ Annoying. _ Jon thought as he poured the rest of his tea down the drain. Somehow the tea bag had ripped in his drink and left bits of loose detritus floating in his drink. He settled for a glass of water and wandered to his bedroom.

Jon barely slept that night, plagued by insomnia and dwelling off and on about his overreaction earlier that day. It was around 4 A.M. when he decided that the following (current) day, he had to clear his conscience whether Martin showed up to work or not.

—————

Martin woke up feeling dreadful. A nasty headache throbbed in his skull and eyes felt raw and swollen. He lied in bed for about an hour, reliving the embarrassment of the day previous, and was only motivated to get out of his bed by the thought of a hot cup of breakfast tea.

Martin had just taken the first sip of his cup when he heard a knock at the door.

Jon had arrived at Martin’s place at around 8:30 A.M., and just finished knocking at his door when the thought hit him,  _...This is weird. What I’m doing is very weird. I… I should really go— _

Just as he began to have cold feet, the door cracked open. 

“Hello?” Martin spoke through the crack. As he widened the door a small bit to get a good look at who was outside (he hadn’t yet put on his glasses), he saw Jon.

“Uhh… H-Hi Martin. I—” is all Jon was able to get out before Martin swiftly closed the door. 

Jon was trying his hardest not to get irritated again, considering that was what got him into this mess, but after a moment or two of waiting, he stepped up to the door and began knocking louder this time, nearly pounding.

“Martin! Please- I just want to talk!”

Martin, who’s mind was racing as to why his boss was at his doorstep, bought himself some time, by shouting, “J-Just… Give me just a minute!”

This seemed to quell Jon, and he took the brief moment to calm down his nervous energy, but the moment turned from brief to nerve wracking as he continued to wait. Whatever reason Jon was here, Martin wanted to escape the encounter with a scrap of dignity, so he rushed through his morning routine, got fully dressed, and freshened up. As he began to walk towards the door, the thought passed through his mind that he might possibly be getting fired at his own doorstep. He stood at the door and took a deep, but shaky breath… then he unlocked and gingerly opened the door.

Jon perks up as the door opens. Martin steps out of the door, finding it hard to make eye contact.

“Uhm… Hi... Jon? I’m a bit…” he sighs and finally looks up to Jon with defeated eyes, “Why are you here?”

Jon stared at Martin for a moment, expressionless. Why was he here? He had gone over everything he would say to Martin in his head all night long- he thought it’d be simple and quick- but he was having difficulty remembering any of it.

“Uhh… I was…” Jon clears his throat. “I was in the er… neighborhood… … Following up on a case and I… thought I’d… Check in?”

Jon hadn’t intended to lie, as he hadn’t set foot in the archives this morning, but Jon thought it maybe took the weird edge off his visit.

“O-Oh?…” Martin replied, looking up at Jon, a bit of a confused expression on his face.

“...Yeah… I tried to just call you and leave you messages, but…” Jon couldn’t stand just standing awkwardly in front of Martin’s flat and he looked around a bit restlessly, “Is there a breakfast or a coffee place around here or something? Maybe we could chat there?”

“Uh… Yeah… Sure, there’s a place just down the street.” 

Jon nervously rubs his hands together.

“Alright then- I’ll uhh… I’ll wait out here—“

Martin was already locking his flat door from the outside, demeanor tensing. He was now absolutely certain he was going to be fired. He sighed, turned to look at Jon, who was talking and interrupted him by saying, “I’m ready now.”

“Oh. Alright- lead the way.”

Martin led the way, and Jon followed quietly behind. Barely a word was spoken until they were seated at a table on the outside of the cafe. They both ordered their drinks; Martin ordered a cup of earl grey, reminiscent of his now cold mug he was about to enjoy before he was interrupted at home, and Jon had ordered a cup of coffee with cream. After they both put in their orders, Jon was still scanning the menu, nervously picking at the loose laminated corner of the page. He sighed and slid the menu away from him towards the center of the table. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes a bit and folded his finally broke the silence, “It’s on me, by the way. The breakfast. It’s the least I can do.”

Jon doesn’t doesn’t replace his glasses and just folds his hands on the table, looking forward at Martin.

Martin sat stiffly with his hands resting on his thighs feeling thoroughly awkward. He made brief eye contact with Jon, said “Thank you…?” and back down to the table.  _ The least he can do?  _ Marvin thought to himself. 

Was Jon trying to… ease the news? Martin honestly just wished he’d just get it over with. He thought about how he should have answered the phone in the first place and it would have been over last night. He would have skulked a bit, yes, but it’d essentially be  _ over _ and behind him.

Their server comes back and places their drinks in front of them. Jon gives a polite smile and picks up the cream, “Thank you. And uhh…” He looks to Martin, “Do you want anything?”

Martin glares at Jon, ignores his question, and in a bold moment of his own irritation asks, “What did you need to talk about, Jon?”

Jon’s eyes widen very slightly… then he says something about scones to the waitress, who gladly left the tense table to fulfil the request. Jon cleared his throat.

“Martin I’m… I was…” He struggled to search for the words at first, but as soon as he began speaking, it was as if he had crossed a threshold, “I’m… embarrassed at how I… spoke to you, yesterday. After you left, I felt … rotten. And I thought I owed you an apology. So, umm…” Jon paused for a moment, and made a concerted effort to make specific eye contact, “I’m sorry.”

Jon then quickly picked up his coffee and took an occupying sip. Martin had a clear look of dumbfounded-ness that he couldn’t shake as he replied, “...Really?”

Jon nodded as he finished his sip and set his mug down, clearly beginning to relax. The waitress arrived and brought a plate of assorted scones. Jon smiled at her, more genuinely this time, and thanked her. He then turned that genuine smile to Martin. In that smile, he could see a twinge of guilt, and Martin knew he meant his apology. Martin felt hot around his ears, but returned the smile.

“Er… Wow. I didn’t expect um...Apology accepted.”

Martin took a quick sip of his own tea. Jon’s smile fell and he raised an eyebrow.

“What were you expecting?”

Martin took the teabag out of his drink and placed it on his plate.

“Honestly, I thought you were going to fire me.”

Jon sputtered during a sip of his own, “What!?”

“I don’t know!” Martin said as he placed his cup back on the table, “I just assumed you were  _ that _ irritated with me!”

Jon placed his own cup back on the table and picked up his glasses off of the table. He thinks for a moment, and sighs before putting them back on, “I wasn’t… I mean I was, but I… May have overreacted.”

Jon avoided Martin’s eye contact as he continued, and his voice unintentionally became a little sharper, “I guess I felt a bit like I had been burning the candle at both ends and was upset to find you hadn’t even struck the match.”

Martin winces, but replies, “I know, and I’m sorry… I had just had a rubbish day before yesterday. I was honestly planning on staying late to make up for it-”

Jon flippantly waves his hand and shakes his head, “Martin, please, I don’t need to hear your  _ excuses. _ It’s  _ fine. _ ”

Jon’s eyes briefly cut to the side, feeling like his choice of words were maybe harsh, but his eyes flicked forward as he committed to the tone. Martin asserted himself, though his voice faltered, “It’s not an excuse!... I should have called out or something.” 

He sighed and looked down into his cup, “I just don’t want to give you more reasons to think I’m not trying.”

Jon stared back at Martin, seemingly in a haze, before clearing his throat and reaching for a scone, “...Just uh… let me know? Next time you think you need to uhh... change your schedule?”

Martin nodded as he was talking, “Yes… I will let you know.”

“Good. Thank you.” Jon’s eyes shifted back to his plate. It was silent between the two for a moment, before Jon began to reach towards his bag and pulled out a folder of papers. Jon briefly looked up to Martin before opening the folder.

“Now, I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to try to get a couple of things done while I’m here for a bit.”

Martin raises his eyebrows, “Er… no, it’s fine. Go ahead.”

They both sat in mostly silence for the remainder of the short, sans a couple of surprised remarks from Martin when he finally tasted the scones and remarked that they were very tasty. Jon glanced up as Martin happily dunked a scone in his tea with an expression of genuine glee on his face and something within him stirred. He swallowed, but continued watching Martin. His mind searched for a descriptor for the feeling he felt flutter in his stomach, and before he could come to a conclusion, Martin, while wiping some crumbs off his face with a napkin, looked up to Jon and gave a flushed smile. He still had a big crumb on his face, but Jon wasn’t about to tell him.

Jon gave an almost imperceivable grin of his own and rolled his eyes, before looking back to his page.

_ Ah, _ he thought, reaching his conclusion of what the feeling had been.

_ Annoyance. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope it was enjoyable. I honestly don’t ever write fan fiction, but my brain has been on fire since I got up to date with TMA and I felt like I really wanted to write something.
> 
> I’m open to critique/corrections, but please be kind. I used to write, but I usually draw and make comics these days. I’m trying to dip back into regular writing because I can get out more thoughts easier and it’s just generally faster.
> 
> If the inspiration sticks with me, I do want to write more chapters, so let me know if you enjoyed this fic!
> 
> —
> 
> Fun Fact:  
> My tentative title was ‘Jon yells at Martin bc he’s mean’ and its still probably the most accurate.


End file.
